Pages

Friday, April 30, 2010

Wee Man had a field trip this week for his preschool class, and it was one of those entirely vanilla sorts of events that wasn't very interesting to him. Or me. And I only mention that because it's my blog, and naturally field trips are about me.

Side note: I am quite judicious in my posting about field trips, and pictures of field trips, because I don't actually know how many stalkers I have out there who actually know where I live and also because I have been known to photograph parents in my children's classes like a papparazo stalker, minus the ginormous flash, because really people? That's totally unnecessary for a field trip. And if My Friend K From Up The Street says I musn't post pictures, then I musn't.

So I posted this little statement on the effbook:

Oh, goody. Preschool field trip in the a.m.

Followed by this gem:

field trip synopsis: kid was all 'meh, doll hospital, whatevs, can we go home?'

And I got called out for not having anything nice to say but saying it anyway. I get the whole not saying mean things-thing, but I really didn't think that was a horrible thing to say. Because hi, have you met me? I'm not actually a fan of other people's kids. Also? Not a fan of hanging out with other people's kids IN LARGE GROUPS. Also? A bit of a hermit, I am. I don't really ever want to go anywhere. Unless there's really good coffee, but I'm sure that's a given. And also (I swear this is the last one...)??? Wee Man wasn't really impressed with the whole situation other than 1) we got to see his Daddy at work, and 2) the nicey old lady sewed up his Buzz Wite-near's busted up elbow.

Moving. On.

I'm directing a little play called The Comedy of Errors. Maybe you've heard of it? Well, I made one of the actors REALLY STINKING UPSET today, and I pretty much feel like crap about it. This has absolutely nothing to do with effbook, but it's bugging me and I'm unloading here. Because it's my blog, that's why.

Also? The actor is a kid, as are all of the actors, and I know I just said I don't like hanging out in large groups of other people's kids and yes, I totally volunteered to do this, and yes, I'm aware this might be karma making me feel bad about not liking other people's kids. But maybe not.

Moving on.

Finally, with the effbook thing, I learned tonight that my brother and his fiance, soon to be wife, are moving. I learned this from effbook, because I was scrolling through the day's events, and happened to see a post mentioning this. Also? There are new employment situations, and also et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Awesome. Thanks for sharing.

Monday, April 26, 2010

There's a serious Kumbaya moment happening on Sesame Street. All of the Earthlings are singing together, braiding each other's hair, passing the bong, getting all lovey and smelling the daisies. It's a little much, if you ask me. And now? Some whacked out French salt and pepper shakers bumping into each other while a weiner dog (made out of a hot dog, naturally) runs around them licking things.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Just not really for me. I was rudely awakened 45 minutes earlier than normal (and normal is difficult for me, people), and found myself out of bed, downstairs, coffee in hand, sitting on the floor playing flipping CANDYLAND before 7 am. I love my children, but this is really pushing it. And the only reason I did this is because I am a saint, and the poster-mama for being awesome because Wee Man asked so.ridiculously.sweetly. I had to do it.

I tried to make Alton Brown's Chocolate Syrup recipe today because I tasted it this weekend and it is FREAKING AMAZING. And the recipe? Wicked easy, unless you have a three year-old who throws a temper tantrum just as the sugar syrup comes to a boil and you are so distracted that you walk away from the stove and then you pretty much light the world on fire with burning sugar syrup.

(I've been warned to add the corn syrup in the recipe to the sugar and water before boiling it or else the whole thing crystallizes and goes to crap.)

Also? The allergies.

And of course I have a blistering case of allergies on Earth Day. Makes me kind of want to cancel Earth Day all together, and you might think that as The Boss of Things I wield that sort of power. And that's okay if you want to think that. I won't discourage you.

To enter, click the link and share one thing you've done to become more earth-friendly. For and extra entry, you can also follow SleepyWrap and Boba Carrier on Twitter, and fan each product on Facebook, which is super-awesome because not only are you entered to win, but for each new fan and follower, NAP, Inc. (the parent company) is planting a tree. Pretty sweet.

I have to go now, people. I need some happiness in my life, and I'm heading over to win me a Boba.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

I am so crazy proud of myself. Those of you darlings who see me in real life know that I don't really say things like that unless I'm being sarcastic. But really, today, people? I'm so cool, I'm a tiny bit smug.

Elliott has not worn a single, solitary disposable diaper in the past year.

Monday, April 19, 2010

You've probably noticed by now (unless you only ever get me in a reader, in which case, really? click through, for the love of Pete) that right below my picture is a button featuring my pals over at Sleepy Wrap. A while agothey sent me a wrap to review, and I loved it and they loved me, and now they're right there over to the right of things. See?

Mah peeps at Sleepy Wrap are partnering with Plant A Billion and planting a tree for every new follower on their Facebook Fan Page and on Twitter. So all that *YOU* need to do is click four times.... well, eight, because they have a Facebook Fan Page and Twitter account for the superfabulous Boba Carrier, too.

Eight clicks, four trees planted.

It's way easier than going to the plant store, purchasing four trees, digging four massive holes, popping a tree in each one, watering, putting the dirt back in the hole, making the grass in your yard all pretty again, and opening a beer. Not that I would know.

One of the reasons I love NAP, Inc., so stinking much is because taking care of the earth is one of their top priorities. They have an entire section of their website that talks about all of their green behaviours. Really. Because it's THAT important, that's why.

Here are a few of the more recent steps NAP has taken:

The introduction of our new Organic Boba Carrier made locally in Boulder, Colorado with both GOTS and OE100 certified organic cotton

NAP, Inc. Management team's commitment to using bicycles for at least 50% of their local transportation needs. We are lucky to live in Boulder which boasts nearly 100 miles of linked bike paths within city limits.

All packaging supplies are now being recycled or donated for re-use

NAP, Inc. invested into a new green server in April '09 with Rackspace. It offers carbon neutral hosting and energy conservation. Data center emissions and power consumption can have a significant environmental impact so we opted for a carbon neutral low-voltage server and a processor with an energy efficient drive and memory. Although our website hosting costs increased almost 3-fold it is worth it for us to know that we are running a carbon-neutral website.

Also? There's something really, really awesome happening on Thursday, and yes, of course I know what it is, and no, I won't tell you because if I do I'd have to kill you, so you're welcome.

And finally, the infamous disclosure. I read a teaser on the effbook about this event. I contacted Ashley at Sleepy Wrap because I think this is supercool and she emailed me the deets and I did it because it's my blog and I can pretty much blog about whatever I want, except for the times when I can't, and this is not one of those situations. They did not even send me a Boba Carrier even though that would totally seal the deal and in approximately 10 months from now they could possibly be receiving my fifth born child even though that would be sort of a waste of a perfectly wearable baby. I just wanted to throw that out there. In jest. Mostly. Ha?

FURTHER DISCLOSURE, because I know you'll be emailing me: No, I am not.

Friday, April 16, 2010

I am so glad you are not my children's doctor. Your staff is rude. I don't know if you all hate your jobs or dislike people, or are just flat-out judgmental bastards, but not making eye contact with the teen mom who is CLEARLY making an effort to raise her baby and do well by her? Is crappy. Talking loudly and slowly makes it even harder to pay attention to you. Here's a little bit of information I think you missed: JUST BECAUSE A PERSON IS POOR DOESN'T MEAN THAT PERSON IS STUPID. OR DEAF. Chew on that for a minute.

Starting the appointment off by telling the mom (loudly and slowly) that THE BABY'S AIDS TEST CAME BACK CLEAR AND SHE SHOULD GO BACK IN 6 MONTHS TO GET HER OWN TEST RE-DONE, without even saying hello, or asking how they are doing or even pretending to be competent socially? Pretty much makes you look like a heartless pig.

Not answering the mother's VERY VALID QUESTIONS about medical procedures? Makes you look insensitive. We get it that money is the bottom line for your practice. We all know that you get an enormous kickback from the vaccine companies for having 100% of your patients 100% vaccinated. It's not a secret.

Also not a secret? That little thing called the Hippocratic Oath. Remember that? That silly pledge you make when you're all done being a student doctor and are deemed ready to move on into the world of grown-up doctors? It contains this phrase:

I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's drug.

Warmth, sympathy and understanding. Try it.

Sincerely,

Pamela

P.S. You knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was not that baby's mother. Handing her back to me after you examined her, and addressing me as such, was one of the most insulting acts I have ever witnessed.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

So the other day I was driving my supercool minicoopervan back home to my little village, and I was talking on the phone to Linda the Lactation Consultant.

And yes, I understand that there is some sort of wrist-slapping that goes on if you get caught talking on the phone, while driving, here in the Great State of New York. But apparently it's only a very vague understanding.

And yes, that is what we smartypantses call FORESHADOWING.

As I approached the underpass which marks the beginning of the village, I noticed a State Trooper waiting at the stop sign. So naturally, I pulled the phone away from my ear, and all quick-like pressed the speakerphone button.

And yes, I realize that's kind of like lying. Don't judge.

The trooper got all giddy and pulled me over, lights and everything, so naturally I said to Linda the Lactation Consultant, "Oh shit, I just got pulled over." And then I hung up.

Mr. Trooper walked up to my window and was all, "It's illegal to text message while driving." And to further illustrate the point, he put his hands together and showed me his crazy texting thumbs, which would have been funnier if I hadn't just been pulled over.

I was all, "Yes, I'm aware that it's illegal to text message while driving. But I wasn't text messaging, I was talking to Linda the Lactation Consultant."

That little tidbit slowed him down for only a second, and then he scrubbed his brain all clean.

To convince me to tell him I was texting whilst driving, he put his hands together and did the crazy texting thumbs again. "Do you know what I think when I see this?" I was guessing he thought I was doing crazy texting thumbs whilst driving, and so naturally I said, "Apparently you think I was texting whilst driving. But? (insert pregnant pause here) I wasn't."

He asked if I had heard about that one kid in that one place that did not have the mad texting skillz and was killed due to texting while driving. And yes, I'd have enjoyed our little conversation much more if he had used the word WHILST. Because I'm *that* girl, that's why. I answered that no, I had not heard about that one kid, and oh my how tragic, because it really is, and that also? I WASN'T TEXTING.

I offered him my phone. "Here. Look at the time of my last sent message. I wasn't sending text messages. I was talking on speakerphone to the Lactation Consultant at the hospital, and holding the phone in my hand so I could hear." Which is exactly what I was doing when he saw me.

It was the one time in my life that I actually wished I watched Oprah, so I could say, "HEY, MAN, I SIGNED OPRAH'S PLEDGE. AND NOBODY DOUBLECROSSES OPRAH." Because I'm sure that would have proved my point right then and there.

Back and forth, and back and forth, and possibly I was becoming slightly a teensy bit belligerent and confrontational, because hello, have you met me?

But oh, no, he didn't want to look at my phone and get all in my business. He and his crazy texting thumbs wanted me to 'fess up to texting. "Really, look at my sent messages. I wasn't sending text messages." Again he declined. And again, and again.

The second-to-last thing I said to him was this: "I wasn't texting. But if you're going to ticket me, fine. Because the next thing I will do is get a detailed copy of my phone bill and head straight to my attorney's office."

Thursday, April 8, 2010

I am a firm agnostic/atheist, yet married to a devout Christian of the Methodist flavor. We respect each other's (non)beliefs. You and the Mister seem to be on a strong wave of "together" via religion. Did you and the Mister come from similar spiritual backgrounds or did you find God together?

Since this is the easiest answer left in the group of questions, and because it is pretty close to this question... the one right down there... from Lazy Bones... yep, that one... I'll tackle them BOTH! TOGETHER!!! AT THE SAME TIME!!! Because I'm awesome, that's why.

LazyBones said...

Sure, I'll take you up on the questioning! Were you and The Mister both raised in the same religion you practice now, or did you choose another one as adults? And was there a formative experience that drew you in, or did it happen gradually over time? I don't practice any religion, but I think about and wrestle with spiritual questions/concepts all the time, and I think fondly of religion, especially Catholicism, as I was raised in it, and my mom still practices. It never clicked with me, but I still feel fondly toward it, for being the background to my childhood.

Yes, MAW, The Mister and I are very "together" on the religion issue. Issues. It happens to be very handy, but that's only a side-effect of the togetherness, not the reason. We mostly come from the same sort of background as far as church is concerned. He grew up attending the United Methodist church we currently attend (which is four houses down the street from us, and also across the street from his parents' house... also handy).

I attended an Assembly of God-turned-whackadoo church as a child. The pastor was a David Koresh type, and built a huge house for himself, his wife, and any other wives or daughters in the church who wanted his "Spiritual Blessing" *ahem* if you catch my drift. They all eventually moved to an Even Crazier Whackadoo Establishment in another state. It was MESSED.UP. If I remember correctly, the pastor's brother was the assistant pastor, and he kidnapped his children and went into hiding. Who does that?

I know, you're all thinking, HOLY CRAP. And you're totally justified in thinking that, because that's not even the tip of the iceberg of what I think about it.

Moving on.

After that whole debacle, we took some time off from church as a family, and started attending the United Methodist church I spoke of before. When I went to college, I didn't go to church except when I was home on vacation, and come to think of it I pretty much ignored that part of my life until late 2000- early 2001, when my parents' marriage fell all to bits. And that is a whole 'nother story, believe me.

But as far as a formative experience that drew me in? Not so much 'formative' as in During Childhood, necessarily, but during that whole Parental Marriage Situation, I was really drawn in. I'm sure many of you have experienced divorce, and I don't need to suggest the many different possibilities or permutations of how that could have an effect on you. But I will tell you that having parents divorce, especially under the conditions that were present in their house? It is hard. I cannot imagine how a child can process that. I was a college-educated adult, with a career and my own place to live and all of those grown-up things, and I really struggled with it.

One night, I woke up in the middle of the night (this was way before the shorties, and just didn't ever happen) and felt that I needed to open my Bible. Saying I felt is not nearly as accurate as it looks as I read this. I was compelled. I needed to find my Bible and open it. I had.to.do.it. And honestly, I had no idea where that thing was, and I was not about to get up and tear my room apart at 3 in the morning when I had to be up for work a few hours later. But I couldn't sleep. The voice in my head kept tugging at my soul. So I got up, and found the Bible.

I opened it, and scanned the page, and this is what I read:

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.*

I was feeling quite weak. There were things in my life I didn't even know how to express, or even think about, let alone pray. Was there even a morsel of truth in that statement? I didn't know. But the sense of hope it brought my spirit that night was so refreshing.

It brought me hope. And promise. And that night? Hope and promise were a good start.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Do you like how I'm keeping you all updated on the name of the day of the week? You're welcome. Here are a few tidbits for you to chew on. Or don't, whichever. Feel free to treat my tidbits however you choose.

That last sentence would have been *WAY* funny if I had left the word "TIDBITS" the way it came out of my fingers, "TIDTITS". Pretty sure that's gonna be a googlestorm.

*******

HB: Knock, knock.

Me: Who's there?

HB: Don't you recognize your own kid?

ba-dum-bum.

*******

My cousin was admitted to the Big City Hospital's Cardiac Unit, and is getting himself a pacemaker tomorrow. The doctors discovered he had suffered a number of small strokes and a rather large seizure, and they're trying to get to the bottom of all that. Hopefully the pacemaker will do its job and stabilize his heart enough to make their jobs easier.

*******

There was a plum pit in the dryer today. Also seventy-nine cents and Lightening McQueen.

*******

It seems the Greater Buffalo Area is not actually Greater than anywhere else. At least Bossy thinks so. There's no No-Book-Tour for us. Wah.

*******

I am the only qualified person in the house in the area of Removal Of The Three Year-Old From The Bath.

Monday, April 5, 2010

I hope you enjoyed a lovely Easter weekend, and that it was filled with family, yummy food, and blessings galore. That's how our weekend was.

Please take a moment out of your busy day today to say a prayer for my cousin Jim. He's a husband and father, and he was airlifted to the Big City Hospital this morning. At first they suspected a stroke (!), but now they're not convinced it was a stroke. But also, they're not convinced it wasn't a stroke. He's getting brain tests, heart tests, test, test, test.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Where do I even begin to describe the past two weeks to you? I've been racking (wracking?) my brains, soggy mess that they are, to find a word or a group of words that even comes close to describing the crazyridiculousnonsense-enduring that I have done.

Also? Where's my medal?

Not really. I don't want a medal. I'm not a medal kind of girl.

Last Tuesday, Hanna's babe (and Hanna, too) were driven away from my house in an ambulance. That was NOT awesome at all. Mr. Baby extended his Go-Go-Gadget Arms and pulled a scalding hot bowl of soup on himself. It was awful. He has a second degree burn on one of his arms and he has to have all kinds of washing and wrapping and dressings and specialists and whatnot. Not. Awesome. At. All.

On Wednesday, we paid a TON of money to get The Mister's truck in excellent working condition. A big butt-load.

On Thursday, we paid a tiny ton of money to get my supersweet minivancooper inspected, and replace blahblah pump blahblah filter blahblah pay up sucka.

Also on Friday, The Birthday Boy (remember him?) climbed in my car and punched my daughter as she sat there, all buckled in her seat, waiting for me. Punched her. And laughed. Until I used the Bad Dog voice, and then he was not so chipper. And don't even comment about this. Just send me your thoughts via the Jedi Mind Thingy we do, and I'll get the message.

Also on Friday, Wee Man turned into The World's Greatest Living Expert On Torturing One's Siblings and also Screaming and Tantruming and Generally Being A Shit. Poor kid just can't do the right thing. Yes, I called him a shit and poor kid in the same breath. But seriously, people, it's the truth. Dude knows the rules, he is very sorry when he does the wrong things, and he just can't help himself.

How do you even begin dealing with that? Yesterday he spent 40 minutes alone (time out, solitary, whatever you call it) before 9 am. Which is, coincidentally, BEFORE COFFEE and BEFORE PATIENCE and BEFORE I'M TRULY AWAKE AND ABLE TO DEAL WITH THINGS IN GENERAL.

I'm really awake before 9 am every day, up and making breakfast and wiping keisters and things. Just not awake awake.

He does really awesome things like this: Climb into the baby's crib, while the baby is asleep, jump and shout and make a terrible racket, thereby terrifying the baby. Then, for extra beauty, he vaults into his bed, takes his shoes off and throws them at the now-screaming baby. NOT AWESOME. Also not awesome? You'd probably think getting four spanks on the bottom with the shoe you used to hit the baby was not awesome. He probably thinks that's not awesome, too, but he's not telling.

I was giving you a run-down of the past two weeks. This behavior nonsense has pretty much been kicking my ass for over a week now. I even read this post here to remind myself where I stand, and it hasn't been much help. I am tired and ornery. And also, I hurt everywhere. Every joint in my body is inflamed. My hands are so swollen I had to take my wedding ring off. The superdeeduper painkillers the doctor gave me barely touch it.

Please don't think I'm whining... Or not. You can think what you want. You will anyway, regardless of the permission I grant you, and if things around here are any indication, my permission is not worth all that much anyway.